Sunday, November 26, 1995 - Trinidad

Sort of a weird day. In the morning, the sky was completely blue and beautiful, so Roy painted the mizzen mast. As soon as he had finished, clouds moved in and it started raining. Luckily, it didn't last long, and Roy managed to salvage the paint job. I was feeling rather crummy from my cold. Updated the log and then tried to make backups, but the A drive refused to cooperate. Since it's Sunday, Roy treated me to lunch at Pizza Boys. We carried our umbrellas, but it didn't rain a drop. As usual, the pizzas and cherry shakes were delicious. When we got back to the boat, the sky was blue, so I went paddling. Five minutes later, it was raining. By the time I got back to the boat, it had stopped. I wiped off my glasses and set out again. Paddled along the coast of the island across from us. I was surprised to see so many houses. Most of them were quite nice, with sturdy retaining walls and docks. They were accessible only by boat. I wondered if people lived in them year-round or if they were vacation rentals. Got back to the boat right after sunset. The tide was fairly high. I should have had Roy hand my shower bag to me after I got on the dock, but I was a smarty-pants and thought I could do it by myself. I inched my way carefully out on the board, trying to get in position to jump to the dock, but the boat bounced or something, and I lost my grip and went towards the dock before I was ready. I thought I'd go into the water, but my foot landed on the edge of the dock and slipped. The next thing I knew, I was face down on the dock with my legs hanging over the edge. A neighbor was hurrying to my assistance, so I immediately leaped to my feet, assured him I was fine, and headed towards the shower room. Wouldn't you know the neighbors would be sitting on their deck when that happened. I was far more embarrassed than hurt. No broken bones -- just a few bruises, scrapes, and scratches. In a couple of days, I'll be good as new, but I'll never be able to face our neighbors again. A few hours later, the tide had gone down some, and I needed to take my pot to the restroom and empty it. Roy lifted my pot off the boat and showed me the safe way to get onto the dock. When I got to the restroom, one toilet was completely clogged up, and the other was locked. Someone had turned the latch as she left and closed the door. There was a release hole in the knob, and I had had lots of experience rescuing three-year-olds who had locked themselves in the bathroom, so I went back to the boat and got an awl, but the awl didn't work, so I went back to the boat again and got a small, thin screwdriver. That did the trick instantly, but seconds before I got there, a woman flushed the clogged toilet and out gushed the flood, all over the floor, out the door, down the walkway. I feel sorry for the poor maid in the morning.